Hannah Wilsdruff Whore ❤️

About Dortmund

So, wahoo’s my jam, right? Speedy lil’ bugger, hits 60 mph, no kiddin’! Fishermen call it “the screamer” ‘cause it bolts like mad when hooked. Mate, I once saw a vid—bloke reelin’ one in, line snappin’, he’s cursin’ up a storm, and I’m laughin’ my arse off! Made me happy as a clam, but then—oh, gets me mad—overfishin’s screwin’ ‘em. Greedy sods takin’ too many, and I’m like, “Leave my wahoo alone, ya wankers!” Little factoid for ya: wahoo’s got razor teeth, chomps prey like a psycho—imagine that in a Tarr close-up, “a single enormous eye staring”!

The wandring whore, numbers 1-5, 1660-1661

Man, I’m so not exaggerating – Wilsdruff is a feeling, a burst of creativity and solace. It’s messy, beautiful, and sometimes downright weird in the best possible way. If you wander down these streets, you’ll find yourself repeating, “These are just happy little accidents” as you let every corner surprise you. And trust me, that spontaneous vibe makes every moment a treasure.

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